


Revolutionary History

by Alexis_Tenshi



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, American Revolution Hero Mick, Angst with a Happy Ending, History Fanboy Leonard, History Professor Leonard, Leonard Snart Lives, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mick Rory Defense Squad, Mick Rory's Statue, Multiple Timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Tenshi/pseuds/Alexis_Tenshi
Summary: A lot of different things shaped Leonard’s life. His father died in a prison riot. His mother moved them to DC. His little sister was born. But the most influential was an entirely unexpected encounter with a certain statue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written after Legends s2ep11, goes AU from there and deals with multiple timelines.

When Leonard was 13, his father was killed in a prison riot. He had been due out soon, even with his bad behavior getting his parole delayed. Now that would never happen.

Leonard would never see his father again, and that realization hurt. He knew his father was no prize winning dad, but he was still his father. Len had been hoping once he got out that things would be different somehow, better. Len would work harder, he’d told himself. He was older now, smarter, than the last time he’d seen his dad. If he’d gotten another chance, maybe he could have made his father proud of him, even just a little.

But now he would never know. That hurt. He missed that opportunity, more than he missed the man himself. He cursed the circumstances that took that away from him, even as he could barely muster tears for his father.

Len’s mother was relieved. She didn’t say so, but Len could tell. She had visited Len’s father in prison, but never allowed Len to. She’d always come back scared. Len had told himself it was the prison that scared her, not his dad. But deep down he knew that was a lie he imagined for himself. So he couldn’t hate her, though he did try.

Leonard was angry, and sad, and lost. The move didn’t help.

His mother had gotten money some months after his father’s death. It was part of a settlement from the class action law suit against the prison, filed on behalf of the family of victims of the riot. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for her to get herself and Len out of the Central City slums and to her relatives in Washington DC.

Len was ready for them to hate him. He knew they hated his father. They’d tried to convince his mother to leave his father before. Len didn’t look like them nearly as much as he looked like his father. He barely resembled his mother at all, except maybe his hair.

But they were all kind. So kind, he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t deserve it. He knew that much. It made him uncomfortable.

His stepfather was kind too, which Len knew even less how to deal with. His mother had stayed single for less than four months after his dad died, remarried in less than a year, and got pregnant somewhere in there too. But somehow she’d managed to find a decent guy this time, a teacher no less.

His stepfather complimented Leonard, called him smart, encouraged him, never even raised his voice at him. Len tried to hate him anyway. It just all felt wrong.

Len stole things. He got into fights. He did everything he could to get his stepfather to turn on him and justify Len’s feelings. But nothing worked.

Len wished that made him feel better. But all he felt was more and more lost. He felt like nothing was right in his life, somehow, no matter how good it appeared. He felt like nothing was right in the _world_ , but he was the only one that noticed.

So he ran away. It was in downtown DC, one day while his mom and stepdad were sightseeing. He hadn’t intended to stop. He’d planned to keep running until things made sense again, maybe all the way back to Central City.

 But then he saw the statue and stopped dead in his tracks. Len blinked, his mouth falling open and his heart racing. He could do nothing but stare. Something deep inside himself was screaming in recognition. Somehow he suddenly felt less lonely, less out of place, less wrong.

Len was still staring at the statue, standing there unmoving, when his mom and stepdad found him. They started scolding him for running off, but Len barely heard them. All he cared about was asking about the statue. Who was he?! Why was he important?!

They’d both been shocked at the questions. It’d been forever since Len had asked them…anything. But Len’s stepdad was a teacher; given the opportunity, he taught.

That was how Leonard first learned about the American Revolutionary War hero, Private Mick Rory, an inspiration and close friend to none other than George Washington. It was the first time since Len had been a teenager that he’d found an interest outside of theft and making trouble.

It was also the first time Leonard realized he might not be entirely straight.

\-----------------------------------

Leonard started doing better in history class after that. He started devouring books on the American Revolution. He tried to visit that statue as often as he could.

His stepdad, a smart man in his own right, started using the trips and books as rewards if Len got good grades in his other classes and good behavior in general. To everyone’s surprise, it worked.

Len could have found his own way to the statue. He could have stolen the books he wanted. But somehow his anger was fading. Somehow he didn’t feel the need to act out so much anymore. Somehow just knowing that statue existed made Len feel better. When he was near it, he felt more at home than anywhere else.

When Len’s half-sister Lisa, was born, she didn’t feel quite right either. But Len instantly loved her anyway. He hadn’t expected to. He hadn’t wanted a sister. But he found himself wanting nothing more in the world than to protect her, even more than he wanted to visit the statue. But he still visited the statue as much as possible.

If his parents thought it was odd that he had postcards of the statue hung near his bed rather than posters of scantily clad women like other teens his age, they didn’t mention it. They were probably just glad he was staying out of trouble, no matter how weird he was.

It surprised no one when he majored in American History in college and graduated with a near perfect grade point average. He became a college professor himself. Of course the class he enjoyed teaching the most was about the American Revolution.

\-----------------------------------

Mick looked at him, frowning from the back of the classroom. It had been ridiculously easy to get into the building. College security was apparently a joke. Mick had swiped an ID card from a kid that didn’t look remotely like him, scanned it to enter, and no one had even given him a second glance.

Now he stood at the back of the classroom, _Len’s_ classroom, and no one turned around in their seats to look at him. Len didn’t look up from his lecture, his voice droning on in that familiar drawl. Damn unsafe of him. He should be better aware of his surroundings. But then, what danger did a college professor have to worry about? Paper cuts?

Mick let Len’s words wash over him, their meaning unimportant, and just listened to that voice. Oh how he’d missed that voice! Even here, with so much different, Len’s voice somehow sounded the same.

The timeline had gotten fucked, well and truly. The _Waverider_ had crashed, broken beyond repair, Gideon permanently silent. There was no fixing any of it. Some of the other Legends were still trying, but Mick had gotten sick of it and finally left.

He’d wandered from place to place for awhile, aimlessly. On some odd whim, he’d gone to DC to see if the statue Georgie had made of him still existed. It did. And Leonard Snart had been standing in front of it, staring up at it. Mick had thought he was losing his mind again. But then he’d looked more closely.

This wasn’t Mick’s Len, that much was obvious then. This Len wasn’t wearing any rings on his fingers. His face was the same; pale skin, pink lips, blue eyes…but they were hidden behind thick black wire glasses that his Len never would have worn, even if he’d needed them. Glasses like that were a sign of weakness.

This Len’s hair was the same; close cropped salt and pepper. But he was wearing a fucking sweater vest over a fucking button down shirt! And pleated pants. And a bow tie. A fucking blue bow tie! Ok, so it brought out his eyes, but that was beside the point! His Len would never be caught dead in that dorky get-up! Even if they were going undercover for a job!

Mick had followed him when he walked away from the statue, because of course he had. His Len or not, Mick needed to know more. Eventually this Len had led Mick to this college, where this Len was apparently a teacher.

Mick should have left well enough alone then, he thought. This Len wasn’t his Len. This Len had a good, normal, quiet life. This Len had no criminal record, had never been to juvie. This Len didn’t need Mick in his life. This Len wouldn’t _want_ Mick in his life.

This Len was a geek, plainly and clearly. It wasn’t like Mick didn’t like geeks. He found them cute, actually, very fun to tease. But geeks usually didn’t like _Mick_. There were exceptions, of course, like that leggy blonde that hung around with Green Arrow. She’d seemed to like Mick fine. But most geeks were disgusted by him.

Most geeks valued smarts above all else. Mick might not be as dumb as he let people believe sometimes, but he was no genius. He hadn’t read a book by choice in years.

Geeks valued being polite, following the rules, being neat and tidy. Mick was the opposite of all those things.

This Len wouldn’t like him. Mick ought to stay away. It would be better for the both of them. Mick knew that. But he couldn’t manage it. Self control and doing the right thing had never been Mick’s strengths.

So he kept going back, kept following this Len around, while easily staying out of sight and unnoticed. He found out that this Len’s life was boring as hell. He taught at school, he worked on a laptop at a coffee shop; he went to museums to actually visit them, not case them for a job. He visited his sister, somehow still Lisa, though different in ways Mick couldn’t quite place.

Mick had been following this Len for well over a week and absolutely nothing exciting had happened. But yet Mick couldn’t seem to stop.

Finally, Len visited Mick’s statue again, just stood there and stared at it, and Mick couldn’t take it anymore. He walked up and stood next to Len. Mick faced the statue, but watched Len out of the corner of his eye. So he saw the exact second Len glanced over at him, blinked, looked back at the statue and did a double-take.

“You…I…I’m sorry, this is rude, I don’t mean to stare, but you look just like him! The statue, I mean, Private Rory! Has anyone told you that before?!”

Mick’s heart raced as Len spoke to him, but it further drove home the message. This wasn’t his Len. His Len was never that polite. His Len was never that hesitant.

“I guess you could say he was a distant relative of mine.” Mick chuckled, referring to the statue.

He wasn’t prepared at all for the way this Len’s eyes light up in response. It looked way too much like how his Len’s eyes had looked when plans for a heist came together.

“Really?! That’s amazing!! You have family history tracing back to him?! That’s spectacular! I did my thesis in college on him! There’s hardly any confirmed records of him, besides the one Washington wrote himself! No mention of descendents at all! Could you tell me about your family and their connection to him?! I would love to talk to you at length about this! Over coffee, or at my office, or…”

“No, I can’t! I’m sorry, I thought I could, but I can’t! You’re not him, and I can’t! I…goodbye!”

Mick broke off and turned on his heel, hurrying away and cursing himself for his stupidity. He should have just left it alone. He never should have went up to him. He wanted his Len back, desperately. But this wasn’t him.

He couldn’t push himself on this Len. It would be _so_ easy, but he couldn’t let himself do it! This Len didn’t need him. This Len didn’t want him. He wanted a Revolutionary War hero that had never really existed. Mick was no hero, no matter what Georgie had thought.

“Wait, wait! Please, wait!”

Not-his-Len was running up to him and Mick couldn’t force himself to keep moving. He was a fool and a weakling, he told himself. But he couldn’t run away from any Len when he was calling him like that. He slowly turned to not-his-Len and found the man panting, holding out his hand to him. In his hand was a small packet of _Red Hots_ candy, and two chocolate bars.

Mick blinked, certain not-his-Len hadn’t had those a few seconds ago. “Did you just _steal_ those?!”

“Well, the line at the street vendor was long and there wasn’t time, and I just…don’t know why I did that…but…somehow I thought you might want them? No one saw me take them.”

Mick smiled widely, he couldn’t help it. The last of Mick’s self control had just been broken by a few pieces of candy. His Len would have found it hilarious. This Len was looking at him in an expression something like awe, and he was blushing. But he’d just swiped candy for Mick without hesitation, on some whim that Mick might want it. Maybe this Len could be _his_ Len, too.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea started as Len having been sent somewhere/sometime thanks to the Oculus explosion, but lacking his memories, and finding Mick’s statue and that jogging things for him. It changed into an idea for an entirely different timeline for Len instead, with unspecified screwing of the timeline because of unspecified stuff that happened with the Legends, lol. But Len’s feelings of wrongness I still attribute to his ordeal with the Oculus leaving some kind of very vague impression of the original timeline for him, even though he can’t remember it.


End file.
